


the mysteries of the 21st century

by novoaa1



Category: Marvel, Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Cuddles, F/F, M/M, Natasha Romanov Is Not A Robot, POV Steve Rogers, Soft Natasha Romanov, Steve Rogers & Natasha Romanov Friendship, Steve Rogers and the 21st Century, adorable natasha, can be read as platonic stucky or not but like. sdlkf, cause we love that, just a lil drabble, sdflksdjlkjlsdkfj, sldfkslfk, soft carolnat, which we love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-08
Updated: 2019-09-08
Packaged: 2020-10-12 06:07:54
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 790
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20559488
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/novoaa1/pseuds/novoaa1
Summary: “We’re not speaking right now,” Natasha had repeated unabashedly then, a wry grin dimpling her cheeks. “Take that as you will, Rogers.”And, okay, so, fine—maybe Steve’s not exactly ‘up to date’ on whatever it is that constitutes as a ‘relationship’ nowadays, or what it means (in explicit terms) to be ’not speaking right now’ (except, of course, well and truly ’not speaking right now’), but right now, he’s rather at a loss… which, considering it seems to him that he spends most of his day-to-day life since coming out of the ice in a constant state of chronic, unparalleled confusion, is well and truly saying something.But, really—is he missing something here?Or: Natasha says that she and Carol 'aren't speaking right now.' Except, it doesn't really seem like they 'aren't speaking right now.' Bottom line? Steve's confused.





	the mysteries of the 21st century

**Author's Note:**

> sdkfjsdlkfjldk so um
> 
> look
> 
> did i spend much time on this? meh
> 
> just a random ass thing that popped into my head 'cause of [this](https://agentnatasharomanov.tumblr.com/post/186357502469/natasha-god-sometimes-carol-makes-me-so) post
> 
> and um
> 
> here we are now, i guess
> 
> (we gonna come back and edit later, i promiessdkfjlskjf)E

“We’re not speaking right now,” Natasha had said, plain and matter-of-factly when Steve had finally broached the topic of Carol upon witnessing a distinctly uncomfortable exchange during which a bleary-eyed Carol had come staggering into the kitchen in search of coffee while Natasha had merely pursed her lips and continued sipping her own at the countertop beside a taken-aback Steve, evidently refusing to acknowledge the blonde woman’s presence in any capacity. 

“Did you have a fight?” Steve had asked carefully in response, doing his very best to seem unbothered and only mildly interested even as the slight quirk of Natasha’s lips told him he wasn’t doing all that well to begin with. 

“We’re not speaking right now,” she’d repeated then, a wry grin dimpling her cheeks. “Take that as you will, Rogers.”

And, okay, so, fine—maybe Steve’s not exactly ‘up to date’ on whatever it is that constitutes as a ‘relationship’ nowadays, or what it means (in explicit terms) to be ’not speaking right now’ (except, of course, well and truly ’not speaking right now’), but right now, he’s rather at a loss… which, considering it seems to him that he spends most of his day-to-day life since coming out of the ice in a constant state of chronic, unparalleled confusion, is well and truly saying something. 

But, really—is he missing something here? 

It’s weird that a rather scantily-clad (short black spandex and a cropped T-shirt with Barton’s logo emblazoned upon the front in purple) Natasha just crept into the common area without a single word whilst Bucky, Steve and Carol sat reminiscing about times long before this strange 21st century, and, not bothering to spare any of them (sans Carol) the briefest of glances, deftly moved to straddle Carol in a single swift movement upon the couch opposite Bucky and Steve—that’s weird, right? 

Well, judging purely by the way Carol’s eyebrows shoot towards her hairline (even as her two tanned arms come up to wrap themselves reflexively around Natasha’s waist in order to ensure she doesn’t fall off), it definitely is—and maybe it’s a sign that Steve’s grown far too comfortable with the enigmatic ex-assassin, or just an inevitable byproduct of his tendency to 'go through with the dumbest bullshit plans in the entire galaxy’ (one of many flattering anecdotes courtesy of an unrepentantly snarky Natasha), but suddenly, he’s opening his mouth and blurting out, “I thought you two were fighting,” before he can think better of it, because that’s just the kind of impulsive idiot he is. 

Carol’s brown eyes widen noticeably at that, and the (other) blonde Captain makes intent eye contact with Steve over Natasha’s shoulder while emphatically mouthing _“Me too,”_ even as Natasha grumbles out a muffled, “We _are_” into her shoulder that leaves Steve and Carol blinking owlishly at one another in its wake, because, _What?_

“That doesn’t—" Steve halts himself, scratching confusedly at the shower-damp hair upon his scalp. “_Huh?_ “

Bucky just grunts noncommittally beside him, and Steve fights the urge to roll his eyes even as Carol’s lips form a pout and he can practically see the cogs in her brain turning—though, when he thinks of all the other ‘brilliant’ (read: deplorably and yet somehow endearingly chaotic) ideas she’s voiced over the past couple of months, he can’t imagine that this one is all that good. (Especially with Natasha on the receiving end of it.)

“Natasha, babe, that doesn’t make any sense,” Carol murmurs quietly back, though, her words barely audible from across the room, and Steve internally heaves a massive sigh of relief, because they’re not going to witness the utter frigidity of Natasha’s fury tonight (… well, they _probably_ won’t, in any case).

“Shut up,” Natasha mumbles back whilst burrowing even further into Carol’s embrace, and Steve can’t help but smile, suddenly feeling like an intruder upon a moment of such warmth and domesticity—leaning to nudge Bucky at his side, he jerks his head in the vague direction of the halls, silently communicating that they should probably leave; Bucky gives a shallow nod in response, his gaze soft and understanding, and Steve can’t help but feel a massive rush of pride at how well his other half is adjusting to life after Hydra.

They exit without a word, swiftly and silently, though Steve can’t help but linger for a moment or two upon the scene behind them—an indubitably _soft_ Natasha curled up contentedly upon Carol’s lap, deft fingers stroking at her pale thighs, a wide and dopey grin stretched across Carol’s angular features. 

So, no, Steve still doesn’t understand the 21st century—honestly, he isn’t sure he ever will. 

But, maybe… maybe that’s not such a bad thing. (Especially when it looks like this.)

— —

**Author's Note:**

> sdlkfsdkj thots? comments? concerns?
> 
> (my [tumblr](https://psyches.co.vu/))


End file.
